


Idea Dump

by Makigaki



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellenistic Religion & Lore, The Iliad - Homer
Genre: Addiction, Death, Gambling, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 09:34:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15337005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makigaki/pseuds/Makigaki
Summary: Just a place where I dump random ideas I have about one of my favourite subjects (mythology).





	1. Métoikos

    Métoikos. Mortal. I am a goddess, and yet I was named a mortal. Métoikos. Foreign Dwelling. Born with their golden blood, but still I was unfamiliar. Perhaps it was the other way around. I came first, after all. To think that I am so different, that they would call the converted nonnative peoples by my name? Maybe it is a coincidence. My name is not known. I have never heard a prayer nor sacrifice to my name, dedicated solely to me. That is fine. I am not vain. I am not jealous. I am not petty. And I am surely not vengeful.

    What am I then? To be put simply, I am the first. First of beings. Suddenly I am alive. The nothing that was before me is 'Chaos'. They say Ouranos was the first, then Gaia and so forth. Sometimes it is Nyx and Erebus. I do not object. They are the first of something, that is true enough. Primordial, they are called. I am no such thing, just as I am not a Titan, not an Olympian, not a sort of nymph, nor am I a chthonic diety, and the word goddess is a hollow title.

    The word that fits best for me is 'child'. I am full of curiosity, a thirst to learn, a hunger to know. I am easily fooled, I am naïve, but I always spring back. I am born of nothing, so my head started off empty. The next beings at least had some sort of marker, and they prospered from it. Born were they knowing all things concerning themselves. My head was empty, and they unknowingly fill it, with me absorbing everything in my surroundings. Later this sponge of mine would be used against me, and squeezed would it be, dripping out knowledge of all. I am a child, observant and attentive, latching onto small things others miss. I was born with nothing, so I can only gain. They were born with all, so they may only lose.

    I am First of Beings. I am not nothingness. I am simply emptiness, a crevice so deep, it can never overflow. Some claim they see the future. They believe they can. It is their truth. But they cannot. I whisper in their ears, show them vivid images. I cannot see the future. But I can predict, basing on how well I know others. The future is not fixed. Truly, everything is decided by your actions.

    They say the Moerae decide all things. If so, why were they not first? If they decide the lives of all, how could there be any before them? They are like me. They predict based on observation. They are endlessly keen, and so they are always right. It is an invisible line which all others have crossed. They think they are not blind. They think they are the truth, and all that they do is right. They believe that their will alone defines the lives of themselves and others. It is not so.

    But perhaps I speak hypocrisy. If only I would say to them, 'No. I am the first of beings. I have watched you grow and learn. I have grown and learned too. You are not just, you are not all-seeing, you are not what defines this actuality. For years I have whispered and shown you images of what I predict. Simple are you and your existence without me.' See? Hypocrisy. I am blind, deaf, senseless, and witless. Who am I to say that they are wrong?

    I know of only one case where I am surely in the right. When I was called Métoikos for the first time. It was Grey-eyed Athene. I had been just outside her temple in Athens when she appeared.

    "Child," She said,"What causes you to repine outside my holy temple?"

    She was wise, but wisdom comes with experience. Her emotions were easy to read, and she knew no better than to not show them. She did not understand me. A great goddess was she, so why should any mortal not rejoice at her temple in her sacred city? She was frustrated, I had sat outside for years, though to her it seemed more like mere days. Who was I to loiter on her holy grounds and not offer her anything in return? I knew this, and yet I could not respond, my tongue was tied, my brain blocked. None had spoken to me since the Titanomachy. I had not once used my voice after. Athena reconsidered me, and she spoke next,

    "Métoikos. Athena permits you to worship here. Do not waste an opportunity so graciously given."

 _Métoikos. Métoikos_. It was a pretty word. I did not wish before that moment to have a name. I had not spoken for millennia, and I found myself like a fool compared to Athena. She disliked my lack of groveling. Of course she would make a rule for her own vanity. Still, I spoke with eloquence,

    "Forgive me, Lady, but you misunderstand. I am no foreigner. I am not mortal."

    I took my arm and showed it, my opposite hand's nails bared. I slashed my arm.

    "See? I bleed gold, as do you. I am sorry if I intrude, but the view is truly one of great beauty."

    She had been taken aback; she had not expected me to be immortal. Her pride took a blow for sure, but the flattery softened it. I was not angry, and that made any nonexistent tension disappear. She spoke, voice loud and strong in a way mine was not,

    "Forgiven. What are you called? Who are you born of?"

    That is something we share. A want to know. In my quiet, weak voice I replied,

    "Métoikos is the first anyone has called me. I am not born. There was nothingness, and suddenly I came to life."

    Athene did not think to consider me older than she, and I did not correct her. Athena speaks,

    "Then Métoikos is your name. A separate entity who dwelled in my abode. Leave, child, step out of my shadow."

    I could tell she was very proud of naming me. The word was pretty, but the meaning did not leave a pleasant taste. But it was true enough, and I left. I have not spoken to another since. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm an okay writer, no matter what my other works will tell you


	2. Patroclus Isn't Weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language
> 
> Oh, and gore. Just a little bit, not really that graphic.

When ya boi Patroclus kills 54 people in a day and people still think he's weak af 

Like, bruh, he threw a rock so hard it dented some guy's skull and made his eyeballs fly out

Pat ain't no sweet medicine man

He's got more than twice the amount of kills Achilles has 

In one day

Seriously, he don't got no godly hacks either

He's just some mortal who bests freaking Apollo three times

HE'S NOT A DELICATE FLOWER

He's actually kind of an asshole 

Just, compared to the rest of the cast he's nice

Patroclus isn't a smol bean who needs protection

Pat has to have his wits taken away to be stopped

He's a murder machine

Did I tell ya when he was just a child, he killed his friend?

Like, he was angry 'cuz he didn't win a dice game

So he murders his best friend with his bare hands

#AngerIssues #GamblingAddiction

He's not a peace-lover

He's a badass with hubris

Did I mention that he comes in first place for having the most kills, named and unnamed?

Patroclus is a little shit who taunts his opponents endlessly

He's got a spear through his stomach and he's dying, but he still sasses Hector (important guy who kills him)

Patroclus has always been hella hardcore

I don't know why people think he's a pacifist

Although, I don't think being constantly compared to a neglected, innocent and naïve little girl who bothers her mum [Achilles] for attention by hanging off her skirt helps his reputation much

Homer wtf 

 

Now that I've got that out of my system, let's talk facts with lots and lots of bias.

 

Okay, just to be clear, in the actual Iliad, Achilles and Patroclus have a mother-daughter relationship. Now, the funny thing is, Patroclus is older than Achilles and is appointed as some sort of mentor/advisor/role model. He's the 'daughter' in their relationship. Like, he's described as a little girl who bothers her mother [Achilles] for attention. He's naive and innocent but totally juvenile in the way that only children can be. Except he murders people. Everyone always rave about Achilles almost destroying fate, what with Zeus having to step in and all. Apollo has to fuck with Patroclus four different times to get him to stop murdering people. He's got more named kills than Achilles, no joke. Like mother like daughter, right? Lol. Asshole Patroclus seriously needs more recognition. Like, yeah, Patroclus is nice and all, but only if you compare him to the rest of the Greeks. His fatal flaw is actually hubris.

So, Clysonymus was actually a good friend of Patroclus's. But Patroclus killed him in a fit of anger over not winning a dice game. When he was a child. With his bare hands, most probably. You know how I was talking about his kills? He comes in first place for character with most kills at 27 named and 27 unnamed. Diomedes is second with 35. Hector is at 30 in third place, though Ares assisted with 8 of them. Achilles is in sad fourth at 24 kills. At least in the last three weeks of the war, which is when the Iliad takes place. Yes, Patroclus is a total beast, he killed 54 people in one day. Also, the guy Pat killed by throwing a rock at his face so hard it dented his skull and made his eyeballs fly out was Hector's charioteer.

Alright, to sum up Patroclus's original character, he's a neglected little girl who bothers Achilles [her mum] while she's working. He's a little shit who taunts the crap out of his opponents and killed a son of Zeus (Sarpedon). Achilles is just the wildly overprotective single-mom who neglects her daughter in favor of going about her business.

Um, disclaimer, we don't know if Achilles and Patroclus were real people. Or if the Trojan War even happened and if Homer was an actual person or collection of writers. Maybe the Iliad had been censored in the past, who knows? So your opinion on Achilles and Patroclus is perfectly valid if you ship them romantically, platonically, or in a familial way. You're welcome to state your opinion here, but nobody should take offense, simply because there's not enough evidence that they even had any sort of relationship, because, well, as I said before, we don't know if they were real people or if they were just made up.

 


	3. Red King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you are warned.

** From Pyyrhos, Neoptolemus, Son of Achilles, King of Epirus**

    "I was a king, once. I was powerful. Brutal. Effective. I ended the Trojan War when I was but a young teen, you know? Son of Achilles, Neoptolemus. Pyrrhos. That was my name. Look at me. I am rotting here, in the Fields of Punishment. Do you see? This is my punishment. No one quite remembers me for who I was. Son of Achilles. I am not just my father's son. I was the king of Epirus. I ended the Trojan War with my own hands. Yet all anyone remembers is how Achilles was a _hero_. How Achilles _weeped_ at the death of his friend. How Achilles was cruel. Oh, how he was cruel. I was cruel, too. They don't remember me or love me. Not as they revere him.

    Did I know I was horrid? Of course I did. All kings have been horrid at some time. Were they punished as I am? No. They are not here. They are in Elysium, in Asphodel, in the world of the living, carrying out their days as reborn souls. How I envy them. They are not remembered for their temperaments, but for their actions and involvement in legends. Perhaps the worst of the worst are here, but I do not see them, good riddance. I suffer here, but I know of a king who was rewarded for his cruelty. Minos. A judge of the dead. Truly, the Lady is the cruelest of all. She punishes me for being awful. Her husband just lays at her feet to be walked upon. The Silent One is aware of the tredding, but still he allows it.

    The Lady is whimsical, and why she penalizes only the best of the worst, I will never understand. It is ironic, that she passionately condemns those who were greatly feared during their lives when it is she who is feared the most, even more than her father, Lord Zeus. We dare not speak her name, even after death. See what I have been reduced too? Pathetic. It is as if I fear for my life, even after I have lost it. I was brutal, effective, cruel, horrid, awful, and most of all I was feared. Now I rot in the Fields of Punishment for all of eternity. I do not claim to be sentimental, caring, or kind, but I will warn you. I was terrible and I pay the price. Do not make my mistakes."

** To You. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Lady refers to Persephone. The Silent One refers to Hades.


	4. Mors

Laetitia loved Life. Why couldn't anyone see it? Life was wonderful, so bright, so dull, so warm, and so cold. Laetitia saw what others couldn't. Life was fast yet slow, contradictory yet compatible, and inconsistent yet consistent. Laetitia was not naïve. She knew Death would come to all, but that made Life so much more brilliant. It was fleeting, but sprinting was worth the exhaustion, if only so you might brush your hand against it and feel its beauty.

Laetitia was aware people thought her simple and stupid, but she was okay with that. She tried time and time again to share the vast amount of pure joy she felt when the sun shined, when snow fell, when flowers bloomed, when storms came and went, and when someone smiled, even if it were forced. None could understand fully, Life was so complex, a mix of so many emotions and actions and changes. Oh how Laetitia loved change. She could see people grow and learn and it made her so happy. She saw people change for what others would say the worse, but seeing them made her glad.

They were a result of Life, a real being with real reasons and real feelings, why isn't that enough? If they were bad to some, were those some also bad in their eyes? Besides, why is bad wrong? If it exists or happens, surely it is natural and capable of being loved. It was the way of Life, order and chaos, and why isn't that a good thing? Why did anything have to be defined as good or bad? Both were magnificent!

Life gave so many opportunities, to win, to lose. Laetitia loved winning. Success, achieving something by working with Life and not against it. Losing was just as great. Laetitia didn't feel duped. Her losing meant winning for someone else. And losing made her learn. Learning was good. Ignorance was good. Everything was good. Everything was bad. Life was impossible to understand, but Laetitia liked it that way. She loved Life. It was beautiful. 

Until it wasn't.

Laetita was sinking, drowning, and she had never been so shocked when she didn't find it beautiful. It was ugly. She was choking, everything was so cold, and Laetitia was so alone. No one had ever understood her. She had been the girl nobody talked about. She had been so happy then, and that was _disgusting_. Laetitia could walk through a crowd and still be utterly alone.

She was dying, and all she could feel were emotions she had never felt before. Bitterness, loneliness, sadness, fright, confusion, anger, and not an ounce of happiness. Always, Laetitia had been happy. And now she wasn't. A smile did not grace her face. Laetitia could remember all her life what it was like to love. Not once had she known what _being loved_ was like.

Laetitia felt betrayed by Life, and found it ugly. She knew she was dead when she saw Mercury above her, ready to transport her to the Underworld. She could see Mors, and Death had never looked so beautiful. Laetitia had never cried in Life, but she cried in Death when she was taken to the Fields of Asphodel to forget. Life and Death had been beautiful once, but dying and forgetting were awful. 


End file.
